A Treasure Worth Seeking
By: Shellie - shelliemg at gmail.com
Chapter 3JC stood at the front window watching the mailman ease his way from one stop to the next. "Jesus Christ, come the hell on old man."
Sighing he leaned against the door and turned his head, seeing his reflection in the mirror. Irritated at what he saw, he shoved away and purposefully strode into his bedroom. He pulled the pale blue golf shirt over his head and laid it across the end of his bed. He’d gotten completely dressed, shoes and all, to deliver the god damn mail to his neighbor. ‘I’m out of my fucking mind.’ He moved over to his dresser, leaning forward, balancing his body on his hands as he stared into the mirror He’d even brushed his hair, well, he’d tried. It was a bit out of control these days but oh well. He stood staring, trying to convince himself he wasn’t still listening for the mailman. He wasn’t.
The tell tale brakes of the ancient white jeep were louder now and JC knew it was just outside. Shaking his head he reached once again for the shirt, heading toward the front of the house, he yanked it over his head and tucking it in before he pulled open the door and stepped out onto the porch. Shoes…he shook his head in disgust…and a belt.
Today the box was full. The usual bills and such, a post card for Caroline and then one enormous manila package with Lauren’s name and address swirled across the front in pretty, cursive writing. ‘Hmm, a present.’ He wondered if she’d be excited by the gift, therefore transferring those happy thoughts to him since he was the one actually bringing it to her.
‘Oh, God, you’re getting mental now, Chasez. Stop standing here already and just take the damn mail to her. After all, you did get all dressed up.’
He couldn’t decide on whether to go to the front door or the back. Deciding the back was less formal, he headed between their houses, his shoes sinking and filling with white sand. What the hell had he been thinking? Never mind, he knew exactly what he’d been thinking, because he had been thinking it all night. Ever since he’d talked to her the day before she’d been on his mind. When he’d told her who he was and she’d been pleasantly surprised but hadn’t changed her attitude in the slightest it had intrigued him. That didn’t happen often. Even if they didn’t change in a bad way, girls always changed when they met him. He’d laid in his bed all night thinking about her laying in her bed the night before thinking about him. He disregarded the fact that she’d simply been trying to figure out who the hell he was, she’d been thinking about him.
You’ve been alone to god damn long. Shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind he stepped up onto her back porch, attempting to shake some of the sand out of his shoes as he did. The back door was open, only the screen door was closed allowing him a shaded view into the quiet home. He knocked softly, "Hello?"
From inside he heard a girlish giggle and the thump-thump of small feet. Stepping back far enough that the door wouldn’t smack him when she plowed into it at full speed, he grinned as he watched the honey haired child trot full tilt in his direction. As expected, she sailed into the door, both hands pushed forward causing it to slam open. He caught it with one hand before it swung back around to hit the girl. "Caroline. Aren’t you looking beautiful this morning?"
"I bootiful," she batted her thick lashes at him like a pro.
"Yes, you are. What’s that on your shirt?" He didn’t look up as Lauren approached but he was aware of her every move. Her long tan legs shown off by her flattering white shorts were in his line of sight and he had to shake his head and replay the child’s reply in his mind. A bunny. He focused on the shirt. Yes. "It sure is. Guess what?"
"What?" Her blue eyes widened.
"I have mail for you today."
"You do?" she raised onto her tiptoes to peer at the stuff in his hands. He held the post card out to her and she snatched it from him eagerly turning to her mother. "Mommy, whas it say? Whas it say, Mommy?"
Laughing Lauren bent forward over the child, showing her the front of the card before reading the back. He tried to listen but the thoughts about what those shorts would look like from behind with her bent over like that clouded his mind. Perv. Stop it!
She handed the girl the card and watched amused as she disappeared into her room to put it somewhere special. She looked at JC with a sigh, "I guess that means you have a package for me too. Shellie always sends Carrie a post card when she sends me something." He held up the envelope and she stared at it, a dreadful expression on her face.
This wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. "What’s in here that’s so bad…if you don’t mind me asking?"
She reached for the package, glaring at it like it was going to bite her. "It’s my manuscript."
"What? Did it get rejected or something?"
She shook her head and gestured for him to enter as she continued to glare at the worn bundle. "Worse. It’s been edited."
"Oh." He still didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but followed her to the kitchen table where she sat it down, dropping into a chair. She looked up at him and forced a smile. "I’m sorry, I zoned there." Her gaze moved down over his attire then back up again. Once her eyes met his, her smile turned genuine, "You look nice."
He blushed looking down at what he was wearing. "Thanks. I intended to run a few errands this morning but never made it out of the house." The lie slid off his tongue like butter. He was so pleased that he almost smiled.
"Have a seat. Can I get you something?"
He slid into the chair across from her, sitting the rest of the mail on the table between them. "I’m fine, thanks. Now tell me, what’s so bad about being edited? Did you write a book? Is that what you do?"
"Well…this is my first. I wrote it, proofed it repeatedly, proofed it again, and then printed it and sent it to Shellie. She read it, ripped it apart, wrote all over it and now she’s mailed it back. I’m scared to open it."
"Is she mean? Why do you send it to her?"
Lauren laughed, "No, she’s not mean, she’s my best friend. She’s just honest, brutally so. Sometimes it’s just hard to take. It would be like me coming in and taking a song that you spent hours perfecting and cutting out some of the lines, rearranging the chorus…"
"Oh, Justin does that shit all the time. It pisses me off, but the song is usually better when its finished. It’s like he takes what I do and knows just where to tweak it and what words to change and then it’s perfect. It still irritates me though…just a little."
"Basically that’s what Shellie does for me. This is my first real book too so it’s like my baby."
"Is that what you were doing outside yesterday? Writing?"
She snorted and shook her head. "No. I was staring at a blank page. I came out here to write and thought I’d be so inspired. So far I just stare out over the ocean and wonder why my life is so fucked up." She made a face at him and stood turning toward the fridge. Yanking on the door, she bent to open one of the drawers on the bottom. "You sure you don’t want a Coke or something?"
JC almost choked. Her ass in those shorts was even better than he’d imagined. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his jeans tightening slightly in the crotch. "Um…sure, a Coke would be nice."
She grabbed two, sitting them on the table in front of him. "Let me find my child. She’s been quiet for too long."
Lauren disappeared from sight and JC took the opportunity to look around. The kitchen was clean and simple, everything in it’s perfect little place. What he could see of the living area seemed to be the same. He picked up his Coke and stood, popping the top as he moved to stand in the space between the two rooms to get a better look. The room was furnished comfortably, the furniture of good quality but very livable. Inviting. There were photos and trinkets, memories scattered about the room randomly but not so much that the space looked cluttered. Nothing tiny or delicate, an obvious indicator that Caroline was one who liked to touch.
"Have a seat on the couch if you don’t have anywhere to be." JC started slightly at her voice behind him. He hadn’t heard her approach. "Let me grab my soda and my package and we’ll see how bad she hurt me."
JC headed for a leather-overstuffed chair in the corner near the window, leaving the long matching sofa or the love seat for Lauren. He sank down, smiling as the cushions hugged his body. "Damn, I’m gonna take this thing home with me."
She grinned as she entered the room, carrying her Coke in one hand and the envelope, still unopened, in the other. She climbed up on the end of the couch nearest him and folded her legs beneath her, letting the package fall to the floor.
"You really don’t want to open that thing do you?"
"Actually, I have mixed feelings. I know, like you, that once it’s all done and said that it will be amazing and I’m excited to start working on it so it will get to that amazing point sooner. But I’m also dreading seeing how much work it’s going to be. I mean think how long it takes most people to just read a novel, much less pick through it with a fine tooth comb, comparing this, rewriting that."
"Open it already. Now I’m curious."
Caroling came toddling around the end of the sofa with a paper in one hand and a red magic marker in the other. "Mommy, I make a pos car for Miss Shellie."
"You are?"
"Uh huh." She sat on the floor between them, placing the piece of paper on top of the coffee table. Rising up onto her knees, she hovered over it and began to "write," mumbling unintelligible words to herself as she did. The marker swirled and jerked in a long squiggly line across the paper before she stopped and made a forceful dot at its end. Period. JC couldn’t hide his smile. The child started again at the left side of the sheet.
"Well at least she uses her punctuation."
"She also knows the exclamation point and question mark. She likes the question mark best but has trouble getting it right."
JC laughed, easily amused with the little girl and her letter writing skills. Finally he looked back at Lauren, "Open the envelope or I’m gonna open it for you."
She reached to pick the package up; tossing it at JC and hitting him square in the chest. "Oh!" he yelped as it landed heavily. Then with a grin he tore the package open. Inside was a thick stack of printed paper held together with a series of rubber bands and binder clips. On the cover in the same cursive handwriting that had been on the envelope it read, ‘HOLY SHIT! This totally kicks ass! Can I go on your book signing tour with you? You promised!’ Below the writing in a swirl the person had signed, ‘Shellie.’ "I think she liked it," he said holding the front page in Lauren’s direction so she could read what was written.
"Open it up."
JC removed the rubber bands and all of the binder clips but one, using it to hold the book together as he flipped though. "Oh wow," he mumbled as he took in the comments written in the margins and attached to the pages with multi colored post it notes.
"See. I have to redo all that stuff now. Or at least look at it."
"Justin has never been this bad with my songs. I’d kick his butt."
"Nah. Think of how many more words there are in my book than would be in your song. It you take a percentage, it’s probably not that bad. I hope not at least."
He stood, stepping across the room to hand her the manuscript. She took it, dropping her feet to the floor and patting the leather cushion next to her. "Sit. Let’s see what we’ve got." She flipped through the book, "It’s not as bad as I expected." She pointed to a particularly marked up page where across the top was written ‘WHAT THE HELL WAS UP HERE?’ She laughed as she flipped though the next few pages that were riddled with green pen marks. "I must have been having a bad day then. This part is going to need a lot of work."
"Why is it all green?" he asked curiously.
"We made an agreement not to use red. It’s too much like high school, like being graded. We use different colors, any color but black or red. It’s not so hard on the eyes or the heart. And see…some of it’s not changes, look here." She again pointed to a post it bearing a purple heart. Inside the heart was scrawled, "He’s a sexy mofo. If she won’t fuck him, I will!"
JC burst out laughing, "Oh my god! She said that to you?"
Lauren nodded flipping the stack of papers closed. "Oh I’m sure there’s worse in there. Shell’s great and she’s honest. That’s why I love her."
"C, look what I did." Caroline stood carrying her ‘post card’ to where JC was sitting.
He took the offered sheet and smiled at the red scribbles and swirls. "Wow, Caroline. This is beautiful. What does it say?"
Playfully she shrugged and with a girlish giggle she turned and ran away.